


Happy Hunting

by Reddle



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Bondage, M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, disguises, of sorts, tranquilizer use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-30 02:10:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8514619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reddle/pseuds/Reddle
Summary: Lockdown survived by the grace of super indulgent fan fiction and so finds a creative way to catch his escaped bounty.Things go wrong in all the right ways.





	

It wasn’t hard spotting Optimus Prime through the crowd.

The idiot was even standing by himself, the only thing keeping prying eyes away a poorly crafted half-cloak covering his face and shoulders. People were still staring, but the moron was oblivious as he walked about.

Of course, who would expect to find the leader of the Autobots in a place like Monicus? The asteroid was known best for its casinos, but many came for the brothels and the illegal death matches held every night.

In short, it wasn’t the place for a Prime.

Lockdown smirked, he rolled his eyes first but he did smirk. He would have felt bad about tracking such a hapless target if not for the fact that said hapless target had sliced him in half and blew him into bits.

Not to mention it had been hell chasing him on that pathetic excuse for a planet Earth.

Yes the bounty hunter had, by some miracle (even though he didn’t believe in that slag) survived; his crew had had quite the time putting him back together. It had taken an entire Earth month, but Lockdown had been put back together.

The first thing Lockdown remembered upon waking was his anger. He was going to find Optimus Prime and bring him to whatever fate the Creators had for him.

If he didn’t kill him first.

The thought had crossed his mind quite a few times - but the bounty was rather large, and he needed the credits. Especially after wasting so much damn time and resources chasing one mech.

Lockdown felt someone approach from behind and he casually turned. It was some oaf of a mech, clearly overcharged on some cheap high-grade. He was large, and staring.

Normally no one would give Lockdown a second glance. He kept himself one dark color to avoid any unwanted attention in crowded spaces. But to have any chance of luring Optimus into his hold, Lockdown had to get…creative.

So he had added plating where it mattered, changed his paint job to a flashy red and glossy black finish and had his vocalizer modified to a higher pitch.

Lockdown slipped on the visor he didn‘t need, turning to the large mech leering at him. He smiled, relaxing his stance. He could use this fool to his advantage.

“Are you looking for a good time?” He drawled, leaning forward. Lockdown thought the idiot’s head was going to fly off he was nodding so hard. Faking a laugh, he placed a hand gently on the mech’s hand, leading him into the middle of the street.

So that Prime could see.

Lockdown continued leading the unsuspecting mech on until the mech stopped him, grabbing his waist and pulling him to his body. He shoved his hand between his thighs, groping roughly. The bounty hunter would have normally broken his hand and left him screaming in the street, but Lockdown had a part to play.

“Impatient aren’t we,” he started, pretending to sound playful. He tried to squirm away, but stopped, pretending he couldn’t escape the stranger’s grip and put on, heavily, a look of panic. “You’re hurting me.”

The mech said nothing, just continued clawing at Lockdown’s crotch. Making his movements overly jerky, Lockdown “tried” to escape again, yelling out.

The idiot of a mech didn’t know what hit him. Optimus Prime had slammed him into the ground, his knee on his throat.

Lockdown was impressed. He almost hadn’t heard Optimus’s approach.  
Optimus rose, his hood falling to the side. Lockdown faked his look of awe; he had really wanted to punch those stupid faceplates into scrap.

“Are you alright?” Optimus asked, clearly concerned. Lockdown wanted to laugh.

“Yes!” He said, bouncing a little as he grabbed Optimus’s hand, holding it to his chest. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t of knocked him off of me.” He paused, excitement giving way to something coy. “How could I ever repay you?”

Optimus looked shocked for a moment, but smiled softly and took his hand back. “There will be no need for that. I’m just glad you’re alright.”

Lockdown pouted, shaking his head. “No, no. Let me at least take you out for a drink.”

There was a moment of silence, as if Optimus was thinking about something, before he nodded.

Prime was an idiot.

Lockdown allowed some of his actual happiness bleed through into his disguise as he bounced again, grabbing Optimus’s hand and leading him on.

After that it had been so easy that it almost physically hurt.

Lockdown had snuck a tranquilizer into the Prime’s drink. No one on Monicus gave a flying slag about someone passing out in a bar after one drink; it just happened.

So Lockdown had dragged him out, checking into a nearby hotel. He had called his men to bring the ship down from orbit. That in itself would take a few hours, and dragging Optimus Prime around for that long did not sound appealing in the least.

He would have already had them on-site, but Lockdown had thought this was going to take longer.

The tranquilizer he had used was potent; it would last well over a few hours. Or that was what Lockdown had thought.

When Optimus had stirred from his spot hand-cuffed to the bed, Lockdown had almost panicked. The Prime groaned, pulling against his bonds weakly and Lockdown stepped closer to investigate.

He was definitely awake. Those blue optics stared at him dimly. Lockdown sighed, sitting at the edge of the bed. “Why are you awake.”  
It really wasn’t a question. More of a complaint.

A garbled sound was his answer and Lockdown continued to stare.

Optimus tried to speak again and failed. Again.

“I still feel sorry for you Prime.” Lockdown had reset his vocalizer to its normal pitch, and he watched as Optimus’s optics widened with understanding. Laughing, Lockdown stood. “You thought I was dead? I’ve survived far worse than you.”

He was half lying; that sword had been pretty nasty…

But there was that one time-

Optimus began struggling harder, his strength still thankfully not back. Lockdown patted his leg, shaking his head. “This time you’re not getting away from me. I’ve put too much time and effort into you and, if I’m completely honest, this has become so personal that I’m thinking of suggesting what the Creators should do to you.”

He was only talking, of course. While he worked for them, he had no intentions of getting any more comfortable with the bastards. He tried to keep as far away from them as physically possible. It was bad enough taking orders from them.

Optimus tried to speak again, this time clearly frustrated.

“You really shouldn’t be awake.” Lockdown frowned, thinking. He couldn’t give him anymore tranquilizer from fear of overdosing. He could just bring the Prime’s corpse to the Creators and say he had no idea he was dead, but…that would probably not play out too well.

Optimus continued to struggle, and Lockdown decided that a nice quick jab to his neck would-

The large mech suddenly stopped his struggling, and Lockdown froze. After seeing his wrists still bound, he relaxed. “You don’t have your friends to save you this time.”

Lockdown was surprised those idiots had saved him the first time. The Autobots were getting low; out of all of them they had an ex-Decepticon, two trigger happy morons and that stupid kid of a scout.

And Prime, who clearly wasn’t any better.

Of course, Megatron had been defeated by them many, many times. What did that say about the Decepticons?

Lockdown found that he really didn’t care. He sat down again, carefully watching his bounty. Optimus looked back, optics a lot brighter than earlier. That wasn’t a good sign.

Had he slipped him the wrong thing? Lockdown pulled the bottle out, examining the contents with a sniff. It was the stuff alright. Perhaps he hadn’t given him enough? Prime was large. Sighing, he sealed the bottle shut, putting it away. It didn’t matter. Even if it wasn’t enough to knock him out, Prime was still too weak to break free of the cuffs.

He might could break the bed, though…

Lockdown sighed, calling his ship.

While he was finding out that there was trouble at the tarmac, Optimus was plotting. He stared at Lockdown’s paint job, his slim middle and long legs…

The bounty hunter hadn’t struck Optimus as vain by any means, so commenting on his new look would probably get him nothing but a smirk and a snide remark.

But Optimus had to try. If he could get the mech close enough…

Lockdown ended the call with a huff. Of course there was a problem. He glanced at Optimus, frowning. Optimus wasn’t going to just sit politely there until he could transport him to his ship.

Pausing, Lockdown caught something…off about his prisoner’s stare.

“You’re planning something,” Lockdown said with a laugh. “That’s cute.”  
The laugh was fake. He was slowly loosing control of this situation and it was frustrating him. But Optimus didn’t know that, and he kept calm.

Optimus shifted, his optics briefly leaving Lockdown’s for a lower view. “Did you choose those colors?”

Lockdown showed his suspicion with a narrowed look. “I did. But you prefer silver plating, don’t you?”

The jab was worth it. Lockdown could feel the other’s anger as he continued to stare. This time his laugh was genuine. Optimus remained quiet for a few moments after that, his stare eventually softening.

“How often do you have to use a disguise?”

Lockdown looked down at the prone form, wondering what he was getting at. “More than you would think.”

“I’m sure you’ve attracted a lot of attention with this particular one.”

There was something teasing in the way Optimus said it, and Lockdown couldn’t help but bristle.

“I make a good prostitute, do I?” Lockdown leaned in, grabbing Optimus’s chin. “I wouldn’t think you one for idle chit chat, Prime.”

Or petty, poorly veiled insults. Lockdown watched those blue orbs watch him. He pulled back, snorting.

“I meant no disrespect, Lockdown,” Optimus started. “I really do like it.”  
Lockdown could have sworn he heard those powerful engines rumble and he turned to look at the Prime, slowly.

He wasn’t serious.

“You’re not serious.”

Optimus tilted his chin, a ghost of a smirk on that face. He seemed serious. Lockdown wasn’t sure how to process this, so continued to stare.

He knew he wasn’t going to do it, but…

Another rev of those engines had him considering it. Optimus Prime was an attractive mech, strong too. Lockdown would know; he had been cut in half by that strength.

No. This was absurd. Lockdown was not stupid. “You’ve stooped low, Prime.”

Optimus seemed unaffected by his words as he continued to stare, plating loosening and cooling fans gently buzzing to life. Lockdown watched, mouth falling open. He really was aroused- there was no faking that.

“I am not interfacing with you.”

Optimus shrugged, but it looked strange with his hands above his head like that. “You don’t have to.” He gave Lockdown’s frame a very heated stare, from his face to his thighs, stopping again at his optics. As absurd as it was, Optimus’s cooling fans kicked on higher.

Lockdown wanted to laugh, pummel and jump on that large, warm body all at once.

Slag. This was clearly some sort of half-aft ploy, but…

Lockdown was leaning over the Prime’s form before he knew he had stepped back to the bed. He placed his hands on his chest, slowly sliding a leg over larger hips. When he was comfortably sat on the Autobot, he stared down at a heated faceplate.

He almost got up, disgusted with himself, but then Optimus made that noise and Lockdown had all but pried the mech’s panel off.

Lockdown watched, optics hooded, as the large thing Prime called his spike emerged from its housing. Fully pressurized it was…intimidating.

But it was pretty. Lockdown bit his bottom lip, thinking. Optimus seemed to get some sort of amusement out of his actions because he chuckled.

“If you don’t think you can take it, I don’t mind-”

“No,” Lockdown huffed. He wrapped his hand around the throbbing thing and hummed. This was obscene.

Lockdown opened his own panel, his spike forgotten as he dipped his finger lower, pushing against the outer node of his valve. He hummed, pushing forward and on his fingers. This was going to take a while if he was going to be sitting on that…

Optimus growled, the sound vibrating through his form, and Lockdown was surprised that he had felt it through his fingers. He bit his lip again, pumping in and out at a slow pace, his thumb taking over stroking the outer node.

“Here,” Optimus said and Lockdown waited, not sure what “here” meant. Then the Prime revved his engine, vibrations rattling everything that mattered. Lockdown yelled out, bracing himself on red and blue plating. Pleased with himself, Optimus revved again.

Lockdown hummed as he spread his fingers, lubricant covering his hand. He added another finger, his entire hand nearly disappearing into himself.

Optimus growled again, bucking up. Lockdown watched him, then his spike.

Lockdown knew better, but he didn’t care.

He removed his hand with a comically wet, almost-popping sound, and lifted his body, hands splayed over Optimus’s chest plates. He looked down at the now darkened optics and slowly lowered himself down.  
It was quite the stretch- he grimaced, stopping half-way. He shut his optics, taking in cooler air slowly through his mouth. The body beneath him shifted, and Lockdown suddenly knew he had made a mistake when Optimus bucked upwards, that enormous thing lodging itself snugly into Lockdown.

He yelled out, shaking. “P-Prime!” The sound he made was…not a sound he usually made. Optimus stopped moving, thankfully, and Lockdown used the time to try and enjoy this.

Then Optimus revved his engine again, and it was over.

The bucking started, and Lockdown could only hang on. It was mostly painful at first, but after the third thrust-

Lockdown held a hand over his mouth to keep from yelling out again. Or worse, make some sort of whimpering sound which, as Optimus quickened the pace, was very likely to happen.

A large, warm hand cupped his aft, and while Lockdown should have been alarmed that his prisoner was free, he only leaned back into it.

Another hand grabbed his waist, and before he knew what was happening Lockdown was flipped onto his back, the soft mattress pushing into his heated frame. He gasped, hands clawing the fabric of the sheets, ripping the weak material into shreds.

Optimus was ramming into him now, and Lockdown made a sound every time he pushed back in. Leaning over his smaller frame, Optimus growled something into his audial- Lockdown had no idea what it was, but then he felt that damn engine rev again and overload ripped through his body.

He was still yelling out with every thrust when he realized Optimus hadn’t stopped. Lockdown was as close to sobbing as he ever had been.

This was just…obscene.

He should have stopped this, and he could have if he wanted to, but it just felt too damn good.

Optimus managed to ram another overload out of him before finishing himself. Lockdown hissed out a curse as he felt his body powering down into a forced recharge.

Lockdown felt his systems eventually boot back up, knowing he was covered in fluids and handcuffed to the bed before he was fully online.  
He just wished he didn’t like it.

* * *

 

:D


End file.
